My head's still spinning from my first Friday night. Mild-mannered Arigato-san just had a 'wild' time out on the town!
My roommate and I made our second foray into Shinjuku's night-time scene. Fortified by the company of a trusted guy friend, we spent hours wandering those dazzling colonnades of neon color. We simply observed and explored.
Our first stop was a major department store, OIOI. Each floor of this colossus caters to a different 'scene,' or set of fantasies-- in fact, I am fairly certain that each of the floors hosted a handful of haute designers' specific boutiques. It was a spectacle, and we freely let our imaginations meander through the strange, winding backways of fashionably constructed identity. On the Lolita floor, we braved a frilly jungle of bustles, lace, and fur. One floor was filled with Japanese skater clothes: the kitschy love-child of Run DMC and Tony Hawk. But my favorite was the quasi-Edwardian fashion; prim but classically flattering clothing with (more than) a hint of 1890s daydream. Think long (but well-tailored) skirts with laced-up boots; sexy bodices over modest blouses; a top-hat here and a little lace there, but nothing too sensational. Mostly earth-tones. Basically, I think I'd feel like a witty Edith Wharton character in those clothes. They're wonderful.
I also felt a regrettable weakness for the modified-schoolgirl look that defined one of the boutiques. I just have a thing for tiered skirts and plaid. But hey, all my life I went to private schools with dress codes. Go figure. My roommate was most enthusiastic about the visual kei stuff (punk meets glam?). It's not my scene, but I liked one collection called "Alice and the Pirates." That is literally Alice of Lewis Caroll, encountering Pirates of the Caribbean (?). Japanese pop culture has a strange love for Alice: I intend to cover that in my forthcoming 'Japanamazing' page.
Then we met five or six guys from the Waseda University Tennis team. We needed directions in order to find Golden Gai, a famous, eccentric bar district. By this time I had some experience accosting random strangers for directions. In the company of my (picky but shy) roommate, I was accustomed to singling out attractive young men for said directions. And so, in my usual, caution-to-the-wind manner, I threw myself at a group of young men who happened past, shouting an earnest "Sumimasen!" They were well-dressed, and several of them were quite good-looking.
We described to them the specific gothloli bar we were trying to find. It's called Sumire no Tenmado, or something thereabouts... My guidebook said it is Tim Burton's favorite place in Tokyo, and a truly surreal experience. The boys were amused by our interest in a 'Gosu-rouri kissa' (kissa = cafe). Fortunately, they all spoke very good english, and several of them had iphones. They tried to direct us, but we were kind of confused. So they said, "well, why not?" and decided to take us there themselves. From the start they were jaunty and fun, and clearly very charmed by their new gaijin acquaintances. They were enthusiastic about my hometown, L.A. "Eiru Ei! Eiru Ei!" hooted one of the rowdier ones. They had that cocky joviality peculiar to athletes of any stripe. It was endearing. Because there were so many of them, each of us had at least two or three guys to chat with as we walked. We laughed a lot and connected over all sorts of odd things. One of the boys asked me if it snows in L.A., and I tried to explain that it's a desert, but they don't have deserts in Japan. I thought maybe the word 'cactus' would make it clear, but they didn't know what a cactus was, so I had to try to explain. One of the boys had the funniest look on his face--something between puzzlement and skepticism. Then the boys told us about their tournament in Bangkok, and said there were lots of pretty temples there. We talked about movies and music. All in all it was exciting, free and easy conversation as we strolled through one of the bright and bustling centers of Tokyo.
Surrounded by our cheerful retinue, we eventually reached a dingy little back-alley that is, apparently, the famed 'golden gai.' We spent about 30 seconds in the gothloli kissa before deciding we might get rufied and robbed. I'm sure we were too hard on the place, but it was pretty eerie. What else did we expect? In any case, we weren't too disappointed; the highlight of the evening was the moment when several of the Waseda boys presented us with their meishi, or business cards (which everyone has here in Japan). They were officially the first phone numbers I had scored in Tokyo. A minor victory, but a very satisfying one.
No comments:
Post a Comment